


Feasting and Fireworks

by vanillafluffy



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 05:45:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14928275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanillafluffy/pseuds/vanillafluffy
Summary: The prompt was "Food, glorious food"...this is more like 30% food and the rest is headcanon.





	Feasting and Fireworks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nagi_schwarz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/gifts).



Tony’s combination 4th of July/Steve’s birthday party on the observation deck at the Tower is easily the most decadent thing Steve has ever seen. 

There’s a whole table of fresh fruit that’s been sculpted into a map of America, the air is perfumed with the aroma of meat from fried chicken to barbecued beef to the usual hamburgers and hot dogs. There are a dozen different side dishes, in quantities that would feed a third-world country. 

Another area caters to desserts: tables of cakes and pies, brownies and cookies. Freezers hold a dozen varieties of ice cream, there’s a soft-serve machine and toppings…it’s almost indecent, but Steve knows Tony has funded multiple community events for the less fortunate, so he can enjoy it with a good conscience. There are also plenty of take-home containers, so guests may well be enjoying the leftovers through the weekend.

Bucky is there, except, Steve reminds himself, these days he calls himself JB. Thankfully, he isn’t actively hostile--remembering their battle in DC still gives Steve nightmares--he’s polite, but maintains a wary distance. According to Maria Hill, who’s been keeping a watchful eye on him while he stays in the Tower, Bucky swears he has no memory of Steve except for last year’s events in DC, but he talks freely about his family, his childhood and various events before the war. 

It baffles Steve that his friend can remember so much of the past, but not him. Bucky has an explanation for this, Maria says. 

“You were frozen for seventy years, there’s no telling whether or not your memory might be a little garbled.” She eyes him, waiting for a reaction. “Just before you went into the ice, you lost a man who happened to be from your old neighborhood. Maybe you were acquainted before the war, maybe not, but subconsciously stewing about it for seventy years turned him into your best friend.”

“But I knew him!” Steve protests. If he didn’t have so many memories, Bucky’s theory would be perfectly plausible--Bucky always was a helluva debater--but Steve can think of dozens of incidents spanning two decades. It isn’t his imagination!

Maria shrugs. “I’m just telling you what he believes.”

Her appraisal dampens his enthusiasm for the party, but he tries not to show it. As a guest of honor, being polite is important, so he smiles, he’s friendly with those he knows and he respects the distance Bucky…JB is keeping from him. To the people who wish him a happy birthday, he answers that he’s only counting the ones he remembers, which usually gets a chuckle.

Roaming around, he shares chicken with Clint, ribs with Thor, and he and Banner compare the merits of the different side dishes. Bruce likes the macaroni salad--it reminds him of a little deli he used to frequent in college, while Steve gets an attack of nostalgia from one of the potato salads--there are three different kinds--it’s just like Bucky’s ma used to make.

His sweet tooth finally kicks in--a big pan of apple crumble rests in the middle of one of the dessert tables. The sight of it sparks his appetite--if there’s one thing Steve loves, it’s apple crumble, more than apple pie, most of the time, because all that crust gets in the way of the apples.

He helps himself to a generous serving, and one sweet, crunchy forkful is all it takes to know who made it. Still carrying his plate, he goes looking for JB.

“This is incredible,” Steve says, indicating the contents of his plate, which have shrunk to half their original size during the course of his search. “That’s your ma’s recipe--it has that little bit of nutmeg---”

“What about my ma?” Low voice, with an edge that dares him to start something.

“She always did make the best apple crumble in New York.”

Maria Hill, alert for trouble, is right there on the spot. “Everything okay here, gentlemen?”

Steve raises his hands, plate in one, fork in the other. “Yes, ma’am! I was saying to JB how fantastic his crumble is. Just like mother used to make.”

“And you?” She eyes JB, who smiles pleasantly back.

“When have I ever been a problem, Hill?” he asks her, mock-innocent. 

There’s color on her cheeks, and she’s glaring at him. “In the last five months? I don’t have time to answer that question. And don’t make me bang your heads together--”

JB laughs outright at that. “You’re welcome to try,” is his playful comeback.

Really, from the intensity of the look she’s giving him, JB should burst into flames, or explode like a Roman candle. Bucky stands there, virtuous and smiling--no, smirking…. 

Steve knows that look, and his appetite is quashed again. 

Back in the day, Bucky had a series of dance-hall cuties, most of whom threw themselves at him. Once in a while though, a girl would strike his fancy who didn’t reciprocate his affections. Steve has seen this technique in action before: It’s the “Thin Line Between Love and Hate” strategy, and sooner or later, he’ll get what he wants. Oh god, how can Steve explain this to Maria? She’s saved his life, the least he can do is help protect her virtue.

“Do not start any trouble. Either one of you. I mean it!” With that, she departs.

Bucky’s gaze follows her briefly, a predator admiring his prey. When he turns back to Steve, his expression is neutral again. “Good to see you, Captain Rogers. Enjoy your crumble.”

Then he’s off in pursuit. 

“The potato salad’s pretty good, too!” Steve hollers after him. No response, just JB prowling in Hill’s wake.

Steve sighs and finds a place where he can sit, think about how to tell Maria to be careful, that’s she’s been slated for conquest--and finish his dessert. It would be a shame to waste it.

….


End file.
